Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Adding one poem to another!

Solitary Succulence

After rain
crushed sprouts from thinned beds
still smell like cantaloupe.






In a Garden on C Street

Crushed sprouts
from a thinned bed
smell like cantaloupe.

But pansies
clear away tears
cutting through snow

like sunlight
through a prism.
Mostly, though,

pansies help me sleep
on long nights
broken

by train whistles.
Out my window,
I still see them

rising toward the moon.



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